Page Turner
“Excuse me, is it okay if I sit at this table? The others are all occupied, and it looks like I wouldn’t be disturbing you much…”
Laurence glanced up from the local paper he was perusing and looked briefly at the woman who had addressed him. “Sure. Go ahead.”
For a moment he resumed scanning the classified ads for any mention of B&Bs, and then a nagging sensation of familiarity made him look at the woman again. Fair hair, blue eyes, seemed to be in the same kind of age range as he was, and still that impression that he knew her from somewhere, but he couldn’t think where. Though one possibility was, obviously, a lot more likely than anything else.
She’d noticed that she had his attention. Not wanting to be filed under ‘creepy staring weirdo’, he hurriedly spoke up. “I was just wondering if you were down here for Charlotte and Robert’s wedding.”
The woman shook her head. “I live locally.”
Not the obvious explanation after all, then. “Sorry. It’s just, I’m sure I recognise you, and I figured that the person who’s the reason I’ve come here was the most likely connection.”
“No, I don’t know your friends. I know a Rob, but he’s already in a Civil Partnership, so he’d better not be getting married any time soon.”
Laurence shrugged. “Fair enough.”
An idea occurred to him. “Actually, if you live locally, you might be able to help me out. Can you recommend a decent hotel or B&B?”
She reflected for a moment, and slowly shook her head again. “Don’t need to use them myself, not round here, at least, so I don’t think about them much.”
Laurence sighed. “Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry to bother you.”
“No offence,” the woman said, “but wouldn’t it have been smarter to find somewhere to stay before you came all the way from… wherever it is that you live.”
Through gritted teeth, he replied, “I did. The problem is, it was this place.” He picked the newspaper up, displaying the front cover story about a local establishment that had been closed down for multiple violations of food safety and hygiene legislation. The act of brandishing the paper triggered a mental association, and his jaw dropped.
“Is something wrong?” asked the woman. “Apart from your skill at choosing temporary accommodation.”
Laurence gulped. “I think I’ve just worked out where I know you from.”
“Really?”
“Is your name Eileen?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, and she took a quick look down at herself in case she had some form of ID on display. “Yes, it is.”
He took a deep breath, and lowered his voice. “And, around a decade ago, did you do some… modelling work?”
She grinned. “Oh, very discreet. Yes, I was a page three girl, back in the day. It’s been a while since anyone’s recognised me from that gig.”
His head hanging, Laurence mumbled, “I am so sorry.”
“What about?”
“For having, you know… objectified you.” He shuddered. “I should have known better, even back then.”
“Are you serious?” Eileen leaned forwards. “When I took the job I knew what blokes would be doing with my picture. It didn’t bother me then, and it doesn’t bother me now.”
He raised his eyes to meet hers. “Seriously? You’re not offended that I used to fantasize about you?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve had guys use the fact that they jacked off to that picture as a pick-up line. Even went out with a couple of the fitter ones.”
She tilted her head to the right. “You know what?”
“Er… no…”
“It’s been a while since I’ve had a night out. You seem all right. Not bad looking, polite… You take me out tonight, and so long as you don’t turn out to be absolutely awful, you can spend the night at my place. Deal?”
Normally, Laurence was not the sort of man to go out with virtual strangers. The fact that he accepted Eileen’s offer was largely down to three factors.
For starters, being in an unfamiliar town, surrounded by complete strangers, made him feel vulnerable. A hint of kindness from someone vaguely familiar felt like a lifeline thrown to a man floundering in the open sea, and he seized upon it gratefully.
Secondly, while the break-up with Charlotte a few years back had been amicable, and they’d remained friends (he’d hardly have been invited to the wedding, or accepted, otherwise), it still stung that she’d already found someone else and was about to marry him while Laurence remained single. All the more so on the eve of her wedding. Having an attractive woman show an interest in him at such a time was balm to his soul.
On top of that, this wasn’t just any woman. This was the one who’d been the focus of his earliest, and perhaps most intense, sexual imaginings. She had a direct line to his libido, and would have been a tempting proposition even under ordinary circumstances. Right now, when he was at such a low ebb, he couldn’t have resisted even if he’d wanted to.
One pleasant evening later, Eileen let Laurence into her home, and they snuggled together on her sofa. After a few minutes, Eileen pulled away slightly and asked, “Larry, would you tell me something?”
“What d’you want to know?”
“Back in the café, when you were talking about how you knew me, you said you used to fantasize about me.”
Laurence’s cheeks reddened. “Yes, I did.” He covered his face with his hands. “Are you gonna ask me what I fantasized about?”
“You bet I am.”
He groaned. “This is gonna sound so weird.”
“Well, now you’ve got to tell me, or I’ll be wondering what dirty secrets are lurking in your mind.”
His hands dropped to his lap. “The thing is, back then I had a… a kind of obsession with hypnotism. And in the photo, you were wearing this sparkly earring that reminded me of the sort of thing that hypnotists would get people to focus on when they put them into a trance. Like a pocket watch or a pendant. Only this was an earring. I think that’s partly what made your picture stand out so much more than all the ones I’d seen before.”
Eileen pouted. “Not me?”
“You as well. Those eyes… And the rest of you. But mostly the earring and the eyes. So I’d think about you using the earring to hypnotise me, and then turning me…” He drew a shuddering breath and, barely audibly, went on, “turning me into your sex slave.”
Eileen stifled a laugh. “So what did I make you do, once you were my slave?”
“Honestly? Not that much, really. I was kind of repressed back then. Never dared to imagine anything beyond kissing and fondling your tits. But that was all I needed, anyway.”
“And that’s what you were so ashamed about?” She shook her head, and abruptly stood up, taking Laurence by surprise. “Wait there a minute. I’ll be back soon.”
He sprawled on the sofa, wondering what she was up to. More curious than worried: it hadn’t sounded as if she was intending to call the police and have him dragged away as some kind of pervert. But still, why hadn’t he made up something less kinky-sounding?
A sound from the doorway caught his attention, and his eyes widened as he took in the sight of Eileen, now topless and recreating the pose from the photo that had so fascinated him as an adolescent. It wasn’t an exact match: her breasts sagged a little, compared to back then (though they were still shapely enough to give him an uncomfortable hard-on), and she hadn’t been carrying a mobile phone in the original picture, but the earring was there, gleaming with reflected light, and her eyes had lost none of their intensity.
“Good boy, Laurence, look at the sparkly earring.” Her eyes flickered momentarily to the phone in her hand. “See how it sparkles, drawing in your attention.”
Barely able to believe that the scenario he’d played out in his mind so many times was now taking place for real, Laurence stared at the earring, his eyes glazing over, his erection swelling further.
“That’s it, Laurence. Just focus on the earring and my voice. Gaze at the earring and listen to my voice. All you can see is the earring, all you can hear is my voice. You want to keep looking at my earring and listening to my voice, don’t you?”
Too enrapt to articulate a word as complicated as ‘Yes’, Laurence made an affirmative sound.
Eileen could hardly believe what was happening. The hypnotic script she’d found online (and slightly modified to make the focus an earring) seemed to be working on Laurence. His eyes were glazing over, his breathing had slowed, and there was an encouraging bulge in his trousers. She read on, her words becoming less hesitant and more confident as she continued with the induction, and was pleasantly surprised to find that this was turning her on as well.
By the time she reached the end of the script, there was no doubt that Laurence was well and truly under, and loving it. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this horny, but that was okay, because of what came next in the fantasy she was playing out.
“Now you’re hypnotised, you have to do whatever I tell you to. You have to be whatever I say you are. And what you are… is my sex slave. Your purpose in life is to give me pleasure. So come over here and get to work.”
Laurence eagerly shambled across the room to Eileen, taking a firm but gentle hold of her breasts as he started to caress them. Lowering his head, he planted a delicate kiss on the right nipple.
“Lick it… Suck it,” she instructed him, and he complied without hesitation, his tongue tracing circles around one areola, a thumb doing likewise to the other, until she could no longer ignore the sensation between her thighs. Remembering what he had said about the extent of his fantasies, not wanting to risk shocking him out of the trance, she thought for a moment before speaking again.
“Very good, slave. Now you must go further down than ever before… Deeper into trance, and lower on me. Get on your knees, pull down my panties, and lick my pussy… Lick me until I cum.”
He sank down, removed her remaining clothes, and buried his face in her crotch, his tongue probing into the slit, seeking out her most sensitive area. She seized his head with both hands, helping guide him to the right spot, her fingers tightening around clumps of his hair as he brought her to the best orgasm she’d had in years.
She released her grip, and he sank back onto his haunches, gazing up at her in mute appeal for confirmation that he had done satisfactorily. Once she’d caught her breath, she smiled down at him, observing with pleasure that his erection was even more prominent than before. “Not bad. But I’ve not finished with you yet. Follow me.”
He started to get up, and she put a hand back on his head, arresting his motion. “No, not like that. On your hands and knees, like a good slave.”
He sank back down and obediently crawled after her as she led the way to the bedroom.
“Now it’s high time you got naked for me, don’t you think? Why should you have clothes on when your Mistress doesn’t, eh?”
Laurence hurriedly stripped. His body was in pretty good shape, and his still-swollen cock, while not the biggest Eileen had seen, was clearly more than adequate for her needs.
“You’ve been such a good boy, you deserve a reward. So you get to join me in my bed for the night, and I’ll fuck you even deeper under my control. All right, up you get.”
A look of utter adoration on his face, Laurence climbed onto the bed and, at Eileen’s direction, lay flat on his back. She mounted him and manoeuvred to bring the tip of his penis to the lips of her vagina.
“You don’t get to cum until I do. Got that?”
He nodded, and she moved forward and down, taking his length inside her. A look of intense concentration formed on his face as she began to ride him, and his jaw clenched as he fought to delay ejaculation until he had satisfied her. Eileen was almost tempted to slow down, to see how long she could make him hold out, but her own need for fulfilment was too great. She told him what to do with his mouth and hands to bring her closer to the brink, and before long she threw her head back in ecstasy as a second climax shuddered through her. Moments later Laurence let out a sound somewhere between cry and moan as he finally allowed himself the release he’d contained for so long.
Eileen sank down onto him. “Hold me,” she whispered. “Kiss me. And when you sleep, dream sexy dreams of pleasing your Mistress.”
His arms wrapped around her, drawing her closer, and his lips found hers again and again until finally his head fell back and his body relaxed. Eileen soon followed him into slumber, but had time to make plans for the next day before drifting off.
Waking to find himself in bed with Eileen, Laurence took a moment to mentally process the fact that the previous night’s events had really happened, rather than being a dream. She was reclining next to him, one elbow on the pillow, her chin resting on her hand, looking down at him.
“Last night was incredible,” he told her. “Thank you so much.”
“So you’re lucid again.” She smiled. “But you’re still my sex slave, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.” The words were out before Laurence had time to think, and he felt his penis immediately stiffening. The tip of his erection pressed against Eileen’s thigh, and she chuckled.
“Oh, good boy. But I need to check something before we do anything with that.” Leaning closer, she asked, “Where and when is your friends’ wedding?”
He thought for a few seconds before naming the time and venue.
“It shouldn’t take more than half an hour to get there from here, so there’s plenty of time for you to put that cock to good use. On your back, slave.”
He rolled into position and she straddled him again. Compared to the night before, she took her time as she moved up and down on him, a teasing smile on her lips. As the pressure built within him, she slowed down still further, her expression showing how much she was enjoying being so completely in control, but Laurence could feel the tension building within her, and hoped that this meant she was almost on the edge herself.
“You want me to cum, so you can cum too, don’t you?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.
“Beg me.”
“Please, Mistress!” He sounded on the verge of tears.
She came down hard on him, practically screaming with delight at the intensity of her orgasm. Laurence whimpered with joy as his cock erupted inside her.
For several minutes she openly luxuriated in the afterglow, and then the display on the bedside clock caught her eye. “Uh-oh, better get to the shower.” New fantasies sprang into being inside his head, only to be quashed as she added, “Separately, at least this time. And I go first.”
Left on his own while Eileen cleaned up, Laurence reflected on his situation. That ‘this time’ suggested that she wasn’t finished with him yet, so what else did she have in mind? How much of a hold did she now have over him? He should probably be a little alarmed, maybe even slightly afraid, at having surrendered so much autonomy to her, but he felt only contentment and arousal at having had his juvenile fantasy turned into blissful reality.
Eileen emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and indicated to Laurence that he could now use the shower. “And don’t leave a mess, or I’ll make you clean it up.”
Laurence was a good slave, and made sure that the bathroom was in a satisfactory state before he left it.
When he returned to the bedroom, he found Eileen in a smart-but-sexy dress, twisting to zip it up at the back. He hastened to help her, and the breath caught in his throat as his hands came into contact with her clothed body.
“Down, boy. No time for more fun right now.” She turned to show off her ensemble. “What do you think? Will this be acceptable at the wedding?”
He blinked at her. “You’re coming too?”
“Oh yes.” She grinned. “I’m looking forward to meeting your friends.”
Now he did feel a little nervous, and took refuge in pedantry. “Just one friend, actually. I don’t really know Robert. Charlotte didn’t hook up with him until after we’d gone our separate ways.”
“Well, then, you’d better tell me all about Charlotte. Or at least as much as you can fit in before we have to leave.”
Laurence felt a twinge of reluctance, but the compulsion to obey easily overrode it, and he provided Eileen with a rapid summary of his and Charlotte’s friendship, relationship, and break-up. The revelation that he’d kept his submissive nature suppressed throughout their time as lovers clearly pleased Eileen, which did nothing to diminish Laurence’s nervousness.
The wedding went well, and Laurence relaxed a little when the important part passed without Eileen making any kind of scene.
Once the bride and groom had disappeared to sign the register, Eileen quietly asked Laurence, “All right, so who else do you know here?”
He looked around the crowd, not for the first time. “I don’t recognise anybody. It looks like I’m the only one of her friends from uni to make it here.”
“Good thing I let you come, then. Less of a disappointment than if none of you showed up.”
At last he found the courage to ask, “You’re not going to do anything to spoil her day, are you?”
She bristled at the suggestion. “Why would I want to do that? I might be dominant, but that doesn’t make me a bitch. If anything, I should be thanking her.”
“Thanking her?”
“Seriously. If she hadn’t invited you, we wouldn’t have met. And if she hadn’t split up with you, you wouldn’t have been available. Stop worrying and enjoy the day. I intend to.”
As the crowd mingled afterwards, Laurence and Eileen inevitably came into contact with Charlotte.
“So glad you could make it, Larry.” She regarded Eileen with curiosity. “I don’t remember you saying anything about a plus one when you replied to the invitation…”
Before Laurence could speak, Eileen launched into a technically accurate but distinctly misleading explanation of their encounter on the previous evening, implying that they were old friends who had lost touch years before and had a chance reunion in the café.
“Back in the old days he never dared mention how he felt about me—I bet it took him forever to say anything to you…”
Laurence squirmed. Thanks to their earlier conversation, Eileen knew exactly how many months it had taken him to summon up the nerve to ask Charlotte out.
“But obviously that spark never quite died out, and when we bumped into each other yesterday, well, whoosh! Fireworks. You must have done wonders for his self-confidence.”
Charlotte raised an eyebrow at ‘Fireworks’, but appeared convinced by Eileen’s story. She called Robert over and, once introductions had been got out of the way, had a quick conversation about some aunt of his who hadn’t been able to make it at the last minute, the upshot of which was that they could fit Eileen in at the evening reception.
The newlyweds moved on to greet other guests, and Eileen gave Laurence a cheeky squeeze on the buttock. “Result! Now, we’ve got several hours to kill before the reception, so if you’re sure there’s no-one else here you want to talk to, I think we should head back to mine and make good use of the time.”
To Laurence’s surprise, and disappointment, that turned out not to mean sex. Though he did find it a bit of a turn-on when she ordered him to wash up the breakfast dishes. While he was doing this, she went through to the lounge, and he could make out the sound of her talking to somebody on the phone.
He’d just about finished when she called him to join her, telling him to dry his hands on the way. When he reached her, she handed over the telephone, indicating for him to speak to the person on the other end, and he found himself answering a series of questions he hadn’t expected to encounter in this context: about his job, his skills, and his work experience.
When he was done, he handed the phone back to Eileen.
“So what do you think?” she asked the woman who’d been questioning Laurence. The woman’s reply appeared to satisfy her, and a brief conversation ensued before she rang off.
“It’s looking good,” she told him.
“What is? That almost sounded like a job interview.”
“It was.”
“I already have a job.”
“You’ll have to quit it.”
“What?”
She indicated the sofa. “Sit down, slave.”
He did so, and she joined him, gazing into his eyes and stroking his thigh. “I love having you as a slave. This is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. But it’s not going to work out, long-term, if you’re living a couple of hundred miles away, so you’re going to have to move down here, and that means getting a job locally. And since I have a friend who’s been thinking about getting an in-house accountant for her business, I recommended you to her, and she thinks you might just fit the bill. So you say goodbye to your old life, start working for her, move in here, and carry on serving me. Everybody wins.”
Laurence gaped at her, scarcely able to believe what she was telling him, and utterly incapable of refusing.
“Now, why don’t you eat me out again? And if you do a good enough job, we should have time for a celebratory fuck before the evening do.”
He fell to his knees in front of his Mistress, overwhelmed by arousal. “Yes, Mistress.”